How to Travel with Your Mom and Not Lose Your Sh**
For six years, my mother and I have taken mini mother-daughter trips around Southern California. Quick one- or two-night getaways a couple of hours from Los Angeles, timed around her birthday. Just enough time for a small recharge and a long-overdue catch-up. It means a little time away from my husband and son, and a generous amount of time to reset and reconnect. Like a lot of traditions, it started as a reaction to COVID restrictions, an easy way to celebrate my mom. We always meant to make it a bigger trip, but year after year it became easier to drive somewhere beautiful and close to home. With plenty of idyllic options within reach, like Montecito, La Quinta, La Jolla, and Palm Springs, to name a few, it made complete sense.
This year we finally swapped the rolling hillsides and sandy shores of Southern California for the rolling hills of the Tuscan countryside, the chic seaside of Forte dei Marmi, and the history-rich streets of Florence. The trip was magical. We biked through a marble fortress by the sea, drove through the countryside as if we were moving through a painting, ate creamy tiramisu at every opportunity, and watched the sunlight settle on terracotta roofs each evening. Tuscany proved to be everything I expected and more. Our time there was magnificent, and I'd go back in a heartbeat.
It was also a long time away, and stressful at times, especially with my mother, whom I love dearly, who is amazing, and who is still my mother. We all have our moments. As a professional therapist who deals with generational trauma and family conflict all day long, I will admit I did lose my sh**. But, as with everything, most of what I learned came from getting it a little wrong first. I took a moment, took a breath, and eventually moved forward.
I spent hours before the trip building detailed itineraries with photos and outfit ideas. It's practical, and it's inspirational too. It gets me excited and prepared. I knew my mother would be doing some of the travel independently, so I wanted her to feel comfortable and ready. I emailed her a detailed itinerary ahead, then printed it in large text. I wanted to give her something tangible she could hold, review beforehand, and keep with her during the trip. Screens are hard for moms, and I might be at my limit with them too!
I also left room for the parts that can't be planned. La dolce far niente was the best part of our days, and having time with nothing scheduled is a big part of why we travel. Magical moments don't just appear because we planned them. They're born out of opportunity. I always try to block out an unscheduled morning or afternoon for the pool, a nap, or a shopping detour, the same way you would when traveling with kids. I believe that by consistently setting time aside, something great will eventually happen: a stimulating conversation over lunch, a good chapter under the Tuscan sun, or a chatty pool attendant who wanted a photo with my mom.
We also talked about the trip in detail before we went. Planning is always half the fun, so we scheduled a few mandatory dinners, just to have a reason to sit down and review everything together. Hearing each other's expectations set the tone and made the logistics easier to sort out. Like many eldest daughters, I had every detail planned, but I realized she is half of this decision. I tried to honor her preferences, even the ones that didn't aesthetically fit my award-winning Canva slides.
I also planned a few solo moments for each of us, something to look forward to alone, without the pressure of having "the best time." My nightly ritual of a bubble bath and Verity on audio became my favorite part of the evening. The additional chocolates from Hotel Le Fontanelle didn't hurt either.
I stored her travel information in my phone: a known traveler number, a photo of her passport, her boarding pass. We shared locations with each other, and always had a plan in case our phones died. I was mindful of her mobility too. She was happy to sit at a cute café while I browsed a few extra boutiques. Afterward, I was excited to show her what I had found over our adorable mocktail spritzes.
And even if you don't consider yourself an influencer, take the photos! I had my tripod and a suction-cup phone holder to minimize stressing her out, although I have to give her credit for some exceptional picture taking! We asked people to help, and always said yes when someone offered. My favorite is a photo swap: two sets of tourists helping capture each other's moments. You will never regret having more memories with mom. This one of us in front of the spiaggina is frame-worthy.
As special as travel is, adventures are challenging too. Even the most experienced traveler can forget a converter, or have the GPS cut out while swerving down a Tuscan road at night. Not naming names. The point of a plan is not perfection, it's preparedness. The best travelers, and well-adjusted eldest daughters turned recovering perfectionists, expect something to go awry on every trip. What matters is how we handle the hard parts, not how hard we try to avoid them.
Spending quality time with your mother is a gift to cherish, and its unexplored corners are also opportunities for connection. Conflict, when done well, brings us closer rather than pushing us apart. It's about taking the time to understand rather than persuade, and being open to learning rather than arriving with the answer already in hand. That's also the beauty of traveling somewhere new, especially a place you've seen a hundred times in movies and on Instagram. Let your body be surprised. Welcome it. You never know what conversation, funny moment, or small discovery you might stumble upon. xx
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